The Unmistakable Myth of You and Me
by revrag
Summary: Bella had it all, until she didn't. Was it real? Where is the line between hurt and healing, is there one? Love, loss, despair, pushing herself harder until she's back at the beginning. E&B
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**Updates will be in BPOV until otherwise noted. Then it will alternate until complete. Chapters will often be very, very short.**

BPOV

I would stay.

I decided. And I would stay.

This place was leased in our names. In_ both _our names. I laugh now remembering what my dad had said years ago, _"Nothing good can come from living with a man before marriage, Bella."_ Of course he'd be right about that.

I would stay, while he chose to leave...but I would remain until the lease was up. I think a part of me still hoped that as long as I was here he'd come back for me. He will have figured out that what he left for wasn't anything compared to what he had here.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Because I had stayed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

March came quickly and before I knew it, the lease was up. I had a choice to renew. Or I had a choice to _renew_. Renew myself. Go someplace, any place where he wasn't. Where I could just..._be_. I wouldn't be part of another. When someone spoke my name it wouldn't be prefaced or followed by his, but instead I would stand alone.

I was scared. To death.

But I wasn't going to stay anymore. Not when I could be somewhere else. Just be.

_Bella._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

As I looked at my surroundings, nothing was overly familiar. I had rented a place about as far away from where I was with him, while staying on this side of the United States. He could have the east and I would take the west. Seemed fair enough. He chose that.

I chose this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

July was here and I was acclimating myself to the weather. It was hot, really hot. Forks had nice weather in the summer, but it was never too hot. This was too hot. Almost unbearable.

I left and my friends, _our friends_, were puzzled. Confused that I offered them no explanation except 'goodbye'. I couldn't. I was starting fresh. I loved them, but they were a painful reminder of what I no longer had. What was no longer a possibility. What no longer was.

I started taking a self defense class. The instructor was bad-ass. Real hardcore and didn't give me any breaks. I worked hard and when that wasn't enough, I worked harder. My body had transformed and while I'd always been relatively in shape, I was shapely now. My arms and legs were toned with long lean muscle and I no longer had love handles.

He used to grab a hold of one or both and hold me to him. I loved it. I _loved_ it. "More cushin' for the pushin'" he'd crudely remark and always followed it with a toe curling smile.

Yeah, I loved it.

Not anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

I took care of myself. I ate properly. I worked out six days a week. I had finally gotten back into running competitively. I remembered a time when that was my life. It sorta of was...my life. Until he came along and then it became unimportant. It was less when I had the more. I always chose the more.

Looking back, I'd like to think I wouldn't have changed a thing. And in reality, since I couldn't, I didn't dwell on what was. Instead I focused on little goals.

I was constantly setting goals for myself. Goals that were just slightly out of my reach, but I knew I'd get there. When I'd get discouraged and wanted to quit...I didn't. I just kept moving forward.

I was moving forward.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

The only thing that kept my heart tethered was his messages. I had received one just today for the first time in a few months.

Shortly after he left he sent, _"I'll call you"_, then _"I miss you"_. They were always similar.

Until I was gone.

"_Where are you?"_

"_Call me."_

"Please, Bella."-it always got me the hardest when he used my name.

"_I miss you."_

"_I'm coming home for a visit, I hope to see you at Christmas."_

"_You weren't there."_

"_Where are you?"_

"_Why?"_

"_Are you happy?"_

Was I happy? I laughed. So hard I had tears running down my cheeks and I was borderline hysterical. I almost replied that time. Almost.

I had moved on. Literally. But I kept my cell the same. I had gotten used to a tethered heart, to it belonging to him.

"_I love you still. Please, Bella."_

It was time to change my number.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

Years.

It had been years since I last saw him. I still saw his face behind my lids almost every time I closed my eyes. When I was running along the water, in the heat of the evening, the gentle breeze would feel like his fingertips touching my naked flesh. When the wind would pick up just enough and rustle my hair from my ear to my shoulder I missed him the most.

I tried to forget the tender moments, but there were so many. They occupied my heart all the time despite the fact that I didn't want them to. I tried to forget, but I knew I never would.

He never asked for my number. He had called my father first, surprisingly. Charlie wouldn't give him any information and he never pressed. Then he tried everyone else. No one offered him anything.

He chose to leave.

It was messing with my head, years later. Still. He chose to leave and yet...he was still very present in my life. _But he chose!_

I hadn't heard from him, not even by message for about 8 months now. Had he moved on finally? I never asked about him, and no one supplied me with any answers to the questions I was dying to ask but never would.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

I was running, training. I was going to be running in the Wilma marathon co-ed division. There was some money on the line, and I was determined to win it. That determination had turned into long hours near the water, mostly at night because it was cooler. Today though, I had the day off and I wanted to challenge myself and run in the sun. The race would be in the heat, and this was in preparation for that.

A song came on my iPod that wasn't one of my favorites. It seemed every time it randomly switched to this song my pace would falter. I occupied myself with changing the song and when I looked back up, I saw him.

It wasn't behind my lids, and it wasn't my imagination. He was sitting down on a blanket less than 50 yards from me. In the flesh. Showing a lot of flesh.

It only took him a few seconds to realize someone was watching. By someone I mean me. The look of surprise on his face was clear.

This was chance.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

It seemed like forever before either of us could move. We might have stared at each other for the remainder of our lives, or something like that, had a woman not gracefully ran her hand down his naked back and leaned down to gently kiss his cheek.

He really was no longer mine. I felt surprisingly numb.

I took deep breath and paid no mind to the music because my heartbeat was all I could hear. And I continued my run.

He leapt up from his blanket, he was quick. At first he was running toward me, but I picked up my pace and kept the course. I wouldn't look at him again. I saw out of the corner of my eye his hand reach out when he got to me, but I passed him swiftly. He managed to get a hold of my iPod cord and pulled out my left earbud.

"Stop! Bella!"

But I wasn't stopping. I couldn't. I needed to get away from him. I needed to be anywhere but here.

I could hear his footsteps in the sand behind me. I could feel the pull to just...stop. To allow him to speak. I wanted to see his face, but I was afraid of what I would find in his eyes.

He yelled continuously. Begged for me to have mercy, to stop for him. I would stop eventually, but it wasn't going to be soon, and it wasn't going to be for him.

"I'm barefoot Bella! Please!"

I slowed momentarily, only because I knew what a bitch a sand burn could be, but it was only a brief moment. And I never stopped.

"I'm not stopping!" He yelled over and over—out of breath. "I won't stop until you do!"

Silly man. As if he could outrun me.

Yet, I knew he wouldn't stop. He was determined, too. And then he would know where I lived and this would be harder on both of us.

So I ran into the water. Why? Maybe to be nice and help him soothe his blistering feet. Maybe because I needed to cool off myself.

I could hear him splashing after me. I would turn around, but I would do it for me. _For me. _Not for him...not for the closure he felt he needed or wanted, but because of my own that _I_ required. That I craved and felt I would never get.

So I did stop, and I had every intention of turning around and telling him I was complete in myself now. That I had everything I wanted. That I certainly didn't need him.

However, he had other plans. Plans. Plans. Plans. Before I could respond, I felt his hot slick_ hard_ body envelope me from behind, his arms wrap around my chest...just hanging onto me. I felt his hot, quick breath upon my neck. Just from his maddening touch and familiar hold, from the way his body, after all these years, after all this time—after it just molded right to mine, I knew. _I knew._

I had nothing.

**A/N: That's it for today folks.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**EPOV**

It all started innocent enough, well, no. Not really. I actually turned into part stalker in my off hours. It was original and charming, at least that's what I would later tell her.

_**Way back in the past...**_

I should turn back. I want to turn back, but as I glance down at my watch I notice that it's only been 15 minutes. I usually make it to 30 minutes before the burn becomes unbearable.

I hate getting older.

I lift my shirt over my head quickly and use it to wipe the back of my neck and brow. It's disgusting, but I'm sweating profusely and need to wipe off. I can see in the distance, the far distance, another runner—it looks to be a woman, but I can't be sure yet.

Naturally, because I'm male and competitive, I pick up the pace. My legs are burning, and I can feel the muscles in my thighs clench and unclench with every step. My calves are fairing well—so far.

It's Tuesday, and I had some cancellations in my schedule. Enough for Monica to rearrange the rest of my schedule so I have the day off. This doesn't happen often, once a year maybe...and I decide to go for a run midday to celebrate? Clearly, I have no life.

I can see that the runner is female now. From this distance she looks slender, like it's possible she's a _real_ runner. Not someone who does this on occasion, or only when their schedule clears.

I've already picked up my pace and I'm breathing more shallow than even a few minutes ago, but I can see she's flying towards me. I can see her ponytail swaying heavily behind her with her quick movement. It appears to be thick and very long. She's pale, but not in a sickly way. Her legs are flush red and I can see clearly that they are muscular and strong.

Her breasts are only slightly bouncing—they appear to be strapped down quite nicely. Round, firm and I can see her tiny tee-shirt hug them...and her waist, which is small—petite.

As fast as she's going, she appears to be relaxed, comfortable in her skin. I'm intrigued at how graceful she is, how her strides are powerful and steady. She's less than half a block away from me now and I can start to see her face.

It's lovely.

She has a heart shaped face. It's flush, and her mouth is slightly open and I imagine her breaths leaving in small, silent pants. Her eyes meet mine and stay there.

She has beautiful brown sparkling eyes...and I'm trapped. Tied down suddenly and every time my feet lift to propel me forward they feel heavier than before. It's like I'm trying to root myself here, in this moment—if she were to stay with me, but only then.

The sidewalk is narrow and I feel it polite to move to the grass so she isn't disturbed. Her cheeks are flush, but seem to blush further when she sees the gesture. She smiles politely and lifts one hand ever so slightly, as if to wave at me or thank me.

I stop completely and just gape at her. I don't mean to, but she's so lovely. I can't look away from her. She quirks an eyebrow at me, but makes no move to stop. So I watch her.

I watch her and it's more than that. It's like I can actually _feel _her.

As she moves fluidly past me, she turns her head inquiring with her gaze as to what the hell I'm doing there...just standing and staring. And I wish I knew, I wish I could answer her, but I don't know. I have no idea.

I just stand there, watching her run away from me. Away from this feeling, farther and farther down the road and I feel...hollow.

I just watch her go and admire the view. Her backside is firm, her calves are shapely and tone and I fantasize about having them wrapped around me intimately. I can imagine their firmness beneath my hands and I have to move now. I have to.

She turns the corner and is gone.

The next time I see her it's due to careful planning. For weeks I ran the same route, sometimes at different times, sometimes at the same time as that first day. I became obsessed and I had to see her again. I would tell myself that I'd be bolder—whatever she needed...without knowing her I'd figure it out somehow.

A small tip came in on a Monday night. Monica was getting ready to go for the evening and had casually mentioned she had started using this site for runners, . It was like a light bulb went on. Almost immediately I logged onto that very same site and mapped out the route I took that day.

I started to really browse the site and discovered that many, many people had charted the routes in their area. There were some routes that were very specific and told of the number of gravel driveways one would encounter, how many hills and at what incline—if there were mean or aggressive dogs along the way.

I came across one particular route—very similar to the one I ran, but longer—that had what had to have been a female comment posted a few miles in from where I last saw her. It read, _"Large Shepard, Bear, likes sugar cubes and will stop attempting to take your head off if you throw one into his yard."_

For whatever reason, I just had this feeling that it was her who had posted that note. I had had so many hours thinking of how thoughtful she'd be and this was something that had to be in her character.

I had nothing to lose. So that Tuesday, I set out—same time as before—for what I hoped would be a fruitful run.

I had failed too many times to believe this would work, but I had hoped.

I couldn't believe it worked.

There she was. Stunning, of course. Glistening with sweat and her hair was matted to one side more than the other. And she noticed me, too.

She made eye contact again and I swear she blushed. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth. Just like last time, she offered me a small wave when she passed. And just like last time she didn't look back.

That was okay, however. I had _plans_. I was following her and keeping her stride.

Looking back it was sort of foolish of me to think it would have been that simple.

This was one of her long runs. Sadly, we would go on for miles and miles and I almost lost her a time or two when I just had to...stop. _She almost killed me!_

Finally, after too long, she slowed her pace in front of a quaint little drive. It appeared to be a large home converted into a duplex. She turned around to do this little jog/dance thing and noticed me there. In her drive. There for her.

A full on smile and then, "Come on in, Champ."

"But you don't know me. I could be a serial killer." I stated astonished.

"Right. Serial Killer. Okay. Are you a serial killer?"

"Well, no. But would a serial killer really tell you they were a, uh, serial killer?" I asked her completely out of breath.

"Probably not." She waved her hand in the air for me to follow her. "But, just so you know, you're not the first person to ever follow me home like this."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**EPOV**

"_Probably not." She waved her hand in the air for me to follow her. "But, just so you know, you're not the first person to ever follow me home like this."_

I remember now because years later she confessed to me that she'd lied. She made it up. She was so nervous that I had followed her home, after the entire rest of her run she'd hoped that I would. She had ran so much harder to try to get away from the thought that I might be attracted to her, would follow after_ her_. And yet, there I was.

And here I am. Again.

Chasing after her.

When I reach her—when she slows down and eventually stops, I can't help but to collide with her. We were always colliding. Forget coming together slowly, gracefully...whatever we were, we were hard and to the point. Now. Now. Now.

And right now? My arms were around her. My heart was healed.

My arms were around her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**BPOV**

"Let go of me Edward, or I'll make you let go." My face was turned towards his. I could see how very much the same he was, except he wasn't. His laugh lines were more defined, and his forehead was lined heavily.

"I can't. I can't let you go." He spoke brokenly—from the excursion of running after me unexpectedly, or from emotion, I couldn't tell.

"Let. Me. Go. Now." I growled with my own breath leaving in fits and spurts. It was because of emotion on my end. However, I had hoped that I was clear.

"Bella, don't make me. Please, don't make me." Definitely emotion.

I started to get really hot. My body was feeling almost feverish, and I could feel the slight breeze, but it wasn't doing anything but throwing off my...sense of normal. I started to see stars and as much as I wanted to be strong, face him with my shoulders back and my head held high, as much as I wanted to look him in the face and tell him to leave me alone, I couldn't. But I couldn't do anything in that moment. I couldn't even register that he may have won, that I couldn't fight him off.

I started to feel, nothing. And the stars turned to black and in the very far distance right before my eyes closed, I could see it filter in in an alarming wave.

_Light._

And then nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**BPOV**

The day Edward left home, he got an early start and I watched his car back out in the dark. I could _feel _the dark.

I don't know how long I waited on the steps outside with the chill, hoping that the new reality I'd face when I turned around without him wouldn't be so bleak. But as I walked through the house, I couldn't help but notice the absence of him. Everywhere.

I felt alone.

I was alone.

I opened the door to our room down the hall, I turned on the lights, and all that I saw...was a bed and a desk that had papers scattered, and _empty_. I could see my life in the beautiful grain that was beneath what was once his computer. A perfect rectangle box shape, highlighted in dust. I would clean that dust eventually and then it would be like nothing existed.

I could look at it as a fresh start, having been wiped clean—waiting for something else to sit on it and declare its shape. But instead,_ I _was just wiped clean.

The realization came when I opened that door and realized there were no signs that he expected to be back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**BPOV**

"She's fine, just back away—give us some space." I heard his voice. I felt my skin prickle and tingle all over. I was acutely aware of being cold while being held next to warm. My feet were heavy and soaking in water.

"Ugh." I complained.

"There you are." He brushed his fingers across my forehead.

"Let me go." I ordered struggling to distance myself.

"No can do, Bella. There's some lake police just behind us that are insisting we take you to the hospital. I've spent the last few minutes telling them that this sort of thing happens frequently when it comes to you..."

"Ass."

Chuckling through his nose, "Pretty much."

"I hate you."

"Do you really?" Serious now.

"I'm thinking about it."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**BPOV**

"I'm fine. Really. He was right, things like this happen all the time." I waved my hand dismissively.

"Have you talked with your doctor about these episodes of fainting?" the officer asked me. He held my wrist checking my pulse.

"It's not a big deal. I just was caught off guard. That's all." I squinted my eyes trying to ward off the headache that was threatening to level me.

"Ma'am, are you sure you don't want us to take you to the hospital? It would really be no trouble." He was rubbing my arms up and down. _Well, that's weird._

"Um..."

"She's fine, honestly. I already told you, she already told you. I'll take her home and make sure she's taken care of." Edward leered at him.

"You know, on second thought..."

"Bella." My name from his lips almost sounded like an expletive.

"Edward, sometimes we can't be too cautious, ya know? I could have hit my head and-"

"You didn't hit your head. I was right there. I was holding you."

"Not by my choice." I pouted. _For Pete's sake...wouldn't he just go already? Please don't leave._

"No, by mine. Even if you do go, I'll find you." He promised in a low whisper so only I could hear.

Promises, promises, promises. They once meant something to me. When he said something, he meant it. He made sure with his actions and follow through that I would always know he loved me, that when he made a commitment he stuck by it. He would never abandon that which he'd set his mind to.

Yet he left.

I needed more time. I couldn't for one second allow myself to thaw, to become comfortable with him. To feel the promise was real. To know he meant it.

"I'm not feeling very good. I think I need to go in." I told the officer. I could see that he was easy on the eyes, but my eyes were clouded. They were always clouded.

"Bella don't do this." Edward begged.

"I'm not feeling well." I insisted.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**EPOV**

I couldn't help but thank God for the tender mercy of having Bella in my life again. For right now. No matter how she got there. No matter that it wasn't planned, and certainly, I'm sure, what neither of us would have expected a reunion to entail.

But I was so grateful for this. For her.

I wanted to tell her. Explain to her how I missed her for years. _Years._

I wanted to tell her that my leaving wasn't for nothing. And it wasn't...not really. But I still didn't accomplish everything I had hoped. I still fell short.

I was miserable doing it.

I'm so miserable without her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**A/N: We're going to be doing some flashbacks for a bit here... **

**EPOV**

I recognized the hand writing on the outside of the envelope right away. Bella had sent me a letter after years of no contact. I was part hopeful, but also angry it had taken her so long. With trembling fingers and a wounded heart, I opened her letter and read:

_Dear Edward,_

_I dreamt of you tonight and now I can't sleep. It's not like I remember exactly what the dream was about. An old blanket that we draped over ourselves and played fort with in my living room. But that's neither here nor there...anyway._

_I also may be slightly inebriated. _

_I can't believe I'm doing this now, but I hope this finds you. I tracked down your address, from Charlie of all people! He told me I should wait to write you until I'd slept first. But here we are. I mean, here I am._

_Anyway...I was thinking the other day about how things were left off—about the fault and blame...and hurt. Oh! I hope sometimes you've managed to cure cancer. I know you haven't yet. I've read some articles—even though we both know they're a little over my head._

_Remember when we decided to take that cooking class together at the college? I remember one day we were walking hand in hand through the commons when we happened upon a dead squirrel. I remember how it scared me and I buried my face into your shoulder. You comforted me, and held me until I was calm. _

_You loved me._

_And I let you go. I was a coward, and lost. But above anything, I was wrong. I knew it the moment you left, but I was too proud to admit it then, and too proud to ask you back. Would you have come? Will you come back to me and be my friend?_

_Like I said, I can't believe I'm doing this now. After all this time. After...everything, but I remember a vow we made to each other. As best friends we'd always be there for each other. I'm about to embark on the biggest event in my life, and somehow after all this time, after all the years we've not spoken with each other—it would feel very weird if you weren't here. And I was thinking of how very much I wanted you here._

_I've talked with everyone, called everyone I need to call. Everything has been arranged, organized and is in its place. Except, I feel like there's something missing—like there's a piece of the puzzle that's been lost or I've forgotten. And I realized the only thing left that I haven't done is talk to you. _

_It maybe doesn't make any sense to you, my asking now. But I am asking now. If you have any place at all, any corner of your heart still reserved for me, will you at least consider coming? Can you forgive me enough to consider being, at the very least, my friend again?_

_Or, am I completely crazy? Was what we had actually a myth—like the one I made up when I was like ten...there was a green-eyed monster with purple prickles all over his back that came out in early twilight and feasted on stray cats? Were we real, or are we a myth—never really having been the best of friends? What I thought was once the best of lovers?_

_And so in my sleepy haze, in the middle of the night, I'm wondering if those things—all those experiences that I've held onto so fondly—if they really existed at all. Sometimes without you to confirm these memories I have, these flashes of rememberances of times when things were simple and made sense, it sort of feels like it never happened. Like I invented all of it. _

_I wonder about your life now. Why, when I looked for you I didn't find that you'd been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize or something equally significant. If you have a family now. If you think of me. I often wonder if the choices that I made—that we made—if they were done differently if we would be different also. Of course we would, but would we have been different? You know...the whole if you took a path less traveled and all that..._

_I don't know what I expect to happen from here. I can imagine you dismissing this letter—maybe that might even be your first impulse. That you might find it ridiculous that I've contacted you at all after all this time. But what I'm starting to feel is that this was only an unmistakable myth of you and me and it feels...unfinished. Like it has all this history and deep past, but never really began. Maybe do you sort of feel that, too? _

_Please let me know. I don't really know what else to say at this time. I don't know how to close this letter either. So I'll leave it like this._

_~Bella~_

I put the letter down on the counter and returned to the kitchen to finish making the sandwiches. I tried to focus on putting mayonnaise on the thick slices of bread instead of my rapidly beating heart. I tried to concentrate on cutting even slices of cheese instead of the buzz in my ears.

"Oh Edward! Are you going to write her back?" Elizabeth questioned me.

I turned around to face her. She held my letter in her fragile hands. A tear was streaming down her cheek and I couldn't help but think...

"Is nothing sacred around here?" I asked her quickly, walking over and snatching the paper from her hands and folding it and placing it in my pocket—for it to burn a hole there until I removed it and read it again and again.

"Well, you left it on the counter. You knew I would read it. So what's going on? Who is she?"

If there was anything I knew at all, it was that Elizabeth got her way. She would never, ever _not_ get it. But today, I wasn't ready to give it to her.

"She's an old friend. Honestly, I have no idea why she'd bother to write me." I told her, because it was the truth.

"Is she the reason why you don't have any lady friends?" she asked me with a wink and smack of her lips.

"No." I lied.

"Sure. Sure, Edward. Why don't you have any lady friends?" she prodded further.

"Seriously? When do I have time? I'm here with you, Elizabeth. Or working. All. The. Time." I didn't mean for it to come across so harsh, but I had just been bombarded with something that might be too heavy to carry, with no time to brace myself, and I didn't need her to be in my business anymore than I needed a hole in my head.

"Whatever. Keep telling yourself that—you could always make time." she scoffed at me.

"Yeah, whatever. What do you want with your sandwich—to drink?" I tried to change the subject.

"What are we going to do with you, Edward? What are _you_ going to do with you?"

"I don't know, Elizabeth." It was all I could offer for now. 

I just didn't know.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

**A/N: We're going to be doing some flashbacks for a bit here... **

It was late and I was turning down the house for the night. Kate had left hours ago, which meant that for the last hour I was stuck listening to Elizabeth regale me with stories of past loves. Not necessarily even_ her_ past loves, just loves that were made and lost and kept and broken. All sorts. I wasn't sure if she was making them up as she went along, trying to fruitlessly pull _our _story out of me.

"Edward, come on...you know you want to tell me everything." she had stated confidently.

"No, I really don't. I need some time." I plead with her. I needed to process all that I read. Read it again. Listen to the words Bella had wanted me to hear.

"What is the great and terrible secret? I'm dying to know." she had clasped her hands together and sat up a little straighter to let me know she was ready.

"Ha. Ha."

"What? Oh. No, I wasn't even trying to make a joke." she explained and she started tapping her fingernails together. "I mean, this girl and you and how you parted. Why you've never mentioned her before. Why you flinch when I say her name. Bella."

I worked hard to prove that what she was saying was imagined, but she was right. I did flinch when her name was said. It was like my heart actually turned cold in my chest and I physically hurt to think of her. It wasn't an issue usually because I forced her from my mind.

But now, everything was dredged up and I couldn't ignore it even though I desperately wanted to.

Of course I remembered everything. And throughout the night, even with all the medication management and charting I had to do—it was impossible not to think of the letter. What it all meant. I couldn't possibly just dismiss it, if only because Bella stated that was a possibility, but what was I going to do? How was I going to respond?

"Come on now, " she said, "What's the story? What happened between you two?"

I swallowed thickly. "What always happens," I said, "She made a choice. I made a choice. Maybe there was some miscommunication...I don't know. The end."

"It's not enough, Edward. You have to offer me a little more than that."

"The hell I do. And it's late Elizabeth, it's time for us both to hit the hay." I realized no truer words could be spoken in that moment. The weight of the day had finally hit me and I was dead on my feet.

"We'll continue this discussion in the morning. You'll tell me all about it, sweetie." she comfortingly placed her hand on my arm. Her touch seemed to convey more than needing an extra arm for balance.

"I don't know about that. I'll think about it." I had told her.

I shook my hair out from the shower before sitting at my desk. I was alone now, in my personal space—_in my room_. I could wind down here and relax, put my feet up without prying, wandering eyes. I normally watched some TV or read a book, but my mind wouldn't shut off.

Not tonight. It was like I caught a second wind once the reality of truly being alone hit me.

So instead I sat. And I considered how my life had changed the moment I stepped away from her. The moment she broke my spirit—my very reason for being, when she decided not to come with me. Things were coming to me clearer than ever and I knew what I needed to do.

I picked up a pen and paper from my desk drawer, finished my scotch, and began my reply.

_Bella,_

_I don't know what I'm doing either. I don't know if I'll actually send this letter to you. I don't know a lot of things._

I had to stop for a moment to collect myself. The tears were pouring down my face and into my lap. I started thinking about how cruel this was—her only contacting me now. How she had made us both suffer unnecessarily, when the cost to contact me sooner seemed, at least to me, so much less. I feel as if I cannot forgive either of us, that it is virtually impossible for me to do so.

_I was very surprised to receive your letter. I'll be honest with you, if it never came I probably would have been better off. Because now I have all these memories that are flooding my mind. You and I did happen. It was the very best part of my life—the time I spent with you. But it also turned out to be the very worst as well, only because I left you alone and I'll never forgive myself for that._

_I can't possibly imagine seeing you again. If you look the same... I imagine your hair is different now. I don't know if you would feel the same, if we fit anymore. And I certainly could never be your friend._

_What you ask of me? Your request for me to come to you? I'm sorry, I have to deny it. It's too late. You never did give me the information anyway. Was that intentional? A test for me?_

_I don't know how to end this either._

_Edward_

I read and re-read the letter again and again. It seemed to me above anything else—_sad_. Was I sad?

I folded the letter and set it aside. I couldn't think anymore. I felt more emotions today than I had in a long time, and it felt as if the life was being sucked out of me. Like if I didn't relent to sleep I would be no more...anything.

**A/N: Just to clarify something...Edward never sent Bella this letter. In fact, she had forgotten to send him the information she said she would in her letter, and left the outside return address for herself blank. He had no way of contacting her, even if he wanted to.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, which is not me.**

Once I'd decided that my only escape from Edward would be to leave by way of officer escort to the hospital, being ever practical started to kick in. I started thinking about my deductible, and coinsurance and copays and the fact that I'd be paying for this in more ways than one.

I didn't need the added expense of an unnecessary hospital visit. I was a grown woman and could care for myself. I could tell Edward to get lost, if I wanted, but I knew I wouldn't.

He was standing so close to me.

_Just one look. For memory only._

Just one look.

The thing was, I was fooling myself to think I could look at him and not see him. My eyes met his and I could see all the pain and frustration and heartache _so clearly_ because I had been looking in the mirror, and for so long my reflection was the same as his.

He came closer. He always knew when to make his move. His hands cautiously raised and rested gently on my bare shoulders. He pulled me closer still and my eyes instinctively closed. I could feel his breath on my face and when his nose skimmed ever so slightly up against my temple, and then the softest kiss placed, I couldn't help but breathe him in and relish the most intimate contact I'd had since I was last with him.

"Bella." He didn't say my name uncertainly. And even though it was only a whisper spoken from his lips, amongst the playing and water splashing and people everywhere, that small whisper was the loudest sound of them all.

I loudly cleared my throat.

"I'm really sorry," I directed at the kind officer and stepped away from Edward, "but I'm not going to need to go in after all. I really am feeling fine now, I just needed some water—it's rather hot out right now in case you hadn't noticed."

"Are you sure this time?" he asked. Perhaps he could sense the hesitation that had bloomed in me. He was willing to give me an out.

"Yes. I'm sure. I really appreciate all that you've done, but I think I'm just going to head home. It's not far from here." I didn't want to wait around for my mind to change, again, so I just started moving towards home.

I knew that Edward was going to follow me. _Maybe this will be good for the both of us after all._

"Edward!" I heard from a short distance. I tried not to be obvious, but I had to turn my head to see that the woman I'd first seen him with was quickly approaching with a child on her hip. A young child—a toddler even.

"Hang on, Kate." Edward asked.

"Man, this guy was fast on your heels, honey. I felt like I was falling out of my top trying to chase after him chasing after you, chasing after _her_." She exasperatedly rushed out looking directly at me and gesturing wildly. "It's a good thing he has on his water socks, but I didn't get the luxury." She brushed some sand off her leg and left foot before continuing, "Now I have to get back to Elizabeth, who is positively dying for introductions by the way."

_Elizabeth?_

She openly laughed and then brought the child forward to place in Edward's waiting arms. She patted Edward on the back in such a comfortable way and then reached up to place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, Honey." she offered. And then she turned around and headed off in the opposite direction.

"Hey big guy." he tenderly said to this child. "And Bella, I know your mind. Do not freak out over this. It's not _anything _like what you may be thinking."

_He knows my mind._

I scoffed.

_I didn't know my mind right now._ I was shocked, panicking, scared that I'd lost him, which was ridiculous since he hasn't been mine in so long! I didn't have a firm knowledge of exactly what I was feeling, how could_ he_ possibly know!

"Really, Edward? Please enlighten me then. Right now. Go ahead." Defeat was quickly being replaced with the anger I'd felt earlier when he held me bound.

"Let's get you home, wherever that is, and we can discuss this."

"Oh no you don't!" I scream whispered to him. It was sort of silly since we were outdoors and I'm sure no one was paying us any attention—the officer had left us alone a bit ago. And despite the fact I was deciding that I was definitely riled up, I didn't want to upset this little boy who had some sort of connection to Edward and was pulling at his face trying to garner his attention.

"Mets, come on." Edward adjusted 'Mets' to get him to stop. "I'm not letting you go again, Bella. It's just not possible for me at this point. I have to go with you. _We're_ coming with you."

"_'We're'_ who?" I mocked with air quotes.

"Me and Mets. We're going to follow you where ever you go. There's no getting rid of us now."

I was hopeful and angry and confused...possibly bipolar. Hot and cold, both, in less than an hour. However, it just took one look at this man before me to realize I wasn't going to shake him. That I've never,_ ever _been able to shake him.

"Follow me. I hope you both have on a good sunblock."

**A/N: If you thought you were confused before...BAHAHAHAHA. Oh, sorry.**


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